Misconception
by MsLanna
Summary: 34 BBY, Leila and Jango Series Story 2, Leila Durmon is stuck on a backwater planet with no way off, when suddenly an unexpected opportunity presents itself.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Misconception  
**Author: **MsLanna  
**Timeframe: **about 34 BBY  
**Characters:** Leila Durmon, Jango Fett  
**Genre:** General  
**Keywords:** Bounty Hunter, Assassin, Seedy Side  
**Summary:** Leila Durmon is stuck on a backwater planet with no way out, when suddenly an opportunity opens up.  
**Notes:** Again I promise: no romance.

Misconception

Leila hated to be stuck on this backwater planet, hated it with a passion. And what was even worse, was that she had actually finished her job already. The message telling her employer about her success had already gone out, telling about the fate of unfortunate Eran McGry. The guy had been real eye candy and it had taken little to no effort to sneak into his life and bed. Even though he had a wife and two daughters. Men will be men.

Now McGry rested in peace under a few feet of earth, and one piece of him rested in Leila's pocket. Taking the uvular had become a habit and trademark. Usually, most people were loth to look a dead man into the mouth that far.

But Eran had also been a fool. He had managed to get CorSec onto their trail and as soon as the ship had went down on Tenjoo it had been dutifully impounded. Not only that, it had also been collected by the organisation for further investigation. Which left Leila stuck.

She had given Eran a good kick or two extra when she found out, but unfortunately, he had already been dead then. And she hated having to dye her hair in the middle of nowhere, no mirrors, nothing. At least, she didn't have to bleach them this time. And all those years of changing hair colour had apparently given her enough practice to manage acceptably without looking.

It was not as if she had come without a back-up plan either. She had set off an emergency call to the port authorities as soon as she and Eran had made it to the woods. The kidnapped lady routine worked well with male officials, but now that McGry was wanted for spice smuggling, she could not hope that, even as possible victim, she would get away easily if she was found.

Though she doubted that after the breathtakingly scantily clad and beautifully helpless blonde that had asked for help, anybody would give the drab brunette a second glance, that walked the streets with the grim self assertion of a pyro-cat.

And walk the streets she did. After taking a room with a motherly and rather fussy landlady, Leila roamed the space port most of her days. Or she drank spiced tea in the small tap café opposite of the port, or she talked to Derek, the only employee there, receptionist, customs officer and janitor all in one person. He was the best, and only, source for news concerning arriving ships, and glad to finally have found someone who would listen to his rants. When Leila had let on that she knew a little about space ship herself, he had spontaneously proposed to her, despite the fact that the assassin pretended to be waiting for the arrival of her betrothed. She suspected that Derek was now fervently hoping the fiancé never arrived and every day that went by without a ship arriving strengthened his resolve.

The landlady who rented out her room, was a little more suspicious about her but since the assassin paid in advance and was a quiet and easy customer, she kept her suspicions to herself. Most of the time. Leila sighed and closed the door of her room behind her. Another great day on Tenjoo was waiting.

At least, she didn't have to worry about somebody searching through her stuff. Even though the door had no lock, there was nothing Leila owned that she hadn't bought on planet. There were regular trips, of course, but the next was scheduled in three weeks and cautious questions about getting a ship ordered here to collect here had almost gotten the local police down on her. It was the first time the assassin was in a place that viewed space travel as something that either happened to other people or was something for thugs and lowlifes, or even both.

Still, the living expenses were not high, and only if she managed to stay grounded for another year would the bounty be consumed completely. Leila was sure she would be out of her mind if she had to stay another week. This planet bored her out of her wits.

"Good morning, Mrs. Tassall," she greeted her landlady as she sat down for breakfast. Toast as usual, and the local corn had such a bitter undertaste.

"Good morning, girl," the woman came and poured caf into her cup. "Derek has been here already, and very excited, too. He was talking about two ships that arrived, in the middle of the night, if you will believe it, but then he was called away. Important business, if I got him right, wouldn't tell me more, though."

Leila's mouth failed to connect with her toast. "Two ships, you say?"

"In hot pursuit, if one can believe Derek," her tone made clear that she did not.

"Indeed," the assassins agreed. "I'll see what this is all about, still. Thanks for telling me." Leila ignored the stern look of Mrs. Tassall when she grabbed her toast to eat it on her way. At least, she hadn't taken the cup of caf along.

The way to the space port was short, and as she entered, Leila scooped that last piece of toast into her mouth. Chewing, she wondered about Derek's urgent mission, as the young man was indeed nowhere to be seen. She ambled down the hall, glancing into the empty waiting room and the janitor's, but he seemed gone. So she went directly for the landing pad.

There were indeed two ships sitting there, a sleek, if official looking shuttle and, Leila hesitated, she remembered that one. The door-handle shaped vessel looked none the better for wear and if Derek had rushed off after it's owner, the assassin was sure she'd soon get the invitation to his funeral. Derek's of course, since Jango Fett was not the type to die laughing.

Leila walked around the ships, but both were locked. She would have to wait until the owner of either returned. With a sigh, she went back into the building. She could wait. She had just settled comfortably in Dereks chair, when a noise from the cell tract caught her attention. It had not been much, a short scraping of metal on duracreet, but it was enough. She got up again, and silently made her way to the cells.

And there he was, in one of the four holding cells of Tenjoo. A smirk crept over Leila's face. This was sweet.

"Well, well, what have we here," Leila commented as she stopped at Fett's cell door. "Got stuck, Mando'a?"

Jango Fett showed neither surprise nor recognition. He simply stood, facing Leila motionlessly.

"Yes, I'd say 'nice to meet you again', too, Fett, but my mother taught me not to lie." Leila cocked her head challengingly.

There was no reply.

"Either your vocoder is damaged, or you're being rude. I suspect the latter, but right now I have no time to take offence." Leila took a step towards the bars. "I also have no more time to lose on this dustball, and assuming you are none too happy about your situation either, I suggest a deal."

The assassin might as well have spoken to the wall behind the bounty hunter who did not even bother to cross his arms in front of him.

"So you're in no hurry personally?" Leila went on nevertheless. "I just wonder how long your bounty head will make it in whatever hiding place you tucked him away." She arched a brow.

Still Fett remained motionless.

"Don't tell me you came empty handed, Fett," she chided. "Your credibility is suffering."

Finally the bounty hunter moved. He shrugged.

Leila rolled her eyes in exasperation. This one way conversation was not going as she had hoped. Still, the man had moved, and she decided to take that as consent.

"I can see you are interested in a deal, so here it goes." Leila said. "I will get those annoying officials off your back in time and you just give me what you owe: a ride."

The Mandalorian helmet cocked to the side. "They are searching my ship."

"No problem, I will get them off without staining you precious carpet. How long do I have?"

"Twenty four hours," was all the answer she got.

Nodding she reached through the bars with her hand. "Deal."

For a long moment nothing happened. But Leila was determined to have things to her conditions this time. If he refused to punch in, he could rot here for all she cared. Maybe those officials were easier to deal with.

Finally, he took her hand, though. Not stooping to echo her 'deal', he simply inclined his head, though.

Leila nodded. "As you wish. Just tell me, are they really officials, or just disguised as such?"

"True officials, on a very unofficial tour."

Leila cursed. If the two had only been thugs impersonating authority, she could just have sent them into the hereafter. Now she had to find a way that would ensure their survival. Shrugging it off, she turned to leave. "No problem."


	2. Chapter 2

Of course it was a bit of a problem. She preferred to kill cleanly and be done with it, but if the authorities got wind of two killed member which were not even sporting a bounty, she would be in much more of a fix than now. So she had to knock them out, and separately, if possible. If one of them had the opportunity to report, she might as well just deliver herself. So separating them was step one, or actually step two, since she would have to gain enough trust of the to be let aboard.

_Men, nothing easier than that_, Leila smiled to herself. Her clothes were nothing out of the ordinary, but with the scissors from Derek's office that was easily amended. Nothing but shreds were left to almost cover her midsection, and knotted tightly under her breasts, the strips of cloth brought them up a considerable bit. A little work on the décolleté and trousers and, voila, she had an outfit a Twi'Lek dancer would envy her for.

She would have to do without the make-up, since all Derek had in is office was a set of ink pens which were impossible to use, even for eye-liner. Instead, Leila pinched her cheeks for a little flush and wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. She would only pass for a third-rate prostitute, but that was only credible in a place like this. Swaying her hips, she approached the _SlaveI_.

The hatch was closed, but Leila went up the ramp nevertheless, pounding a fist against the durasteel. Nothing happened for the longest time, and Leila already considered simply breaking in and claiming it to be a malfunction, however unlikely that would be on Fett's ship, when she could hear footsteps. The door hissed open and a gruff looking man in uniform stood in it, regarding her with annoyance.

"What do you want?" he barked at her.

"Well," Leila purred, measuring him up and down suggestively, "I wondered if you would be interested in - business." She paused long enough before the last word to shove her hip towards him.

The effect was immediate. Instead of banging the door shut on her, he scanned her up and down. The upgraded outfit let little to imagination, but those were exactly the most interesting parts.

"I can understand if you don't want a tour of Tenjoo, it is a very boring place." Leila leaned towards him. "I am sure your ship is much more interesting."

He did not even try to take his eyes of the new view, talking more to her cleavage then her. "I'm not alone."

Leila closed the distance between them with a last step an laid her hand on his chest. "I am better, working one on one, but if you want him in -" her voice trailed off, while her fingers traced the seams of his left breast pocket.

Instinct took over as he let her into the ship. The assassin made a point of sliding in with her whole body brushing against his. They would not be alone long, though. She could already hear the second man approach.

"What is it, Gerg?" a dark voice called. The man turning around the bend fit it well. He was tall and broad, and might have been handsome but for an ugly scar running through his face. And the sneer appearing on his face when he saw Leila.

"Fun," the addressed man replied, leering all over Leila, too. His eyes showed clearly that they had no intention of paying anything for services provided. Who was she but an unarmed woman locked up with two strong men? Leila wanted to sigh. Did nobody worry, when you approached without weapon? Should that not make anybody suspicious?

The nameless giant glanced at his chrono. "Enough time for both of us eh?" He threw a conspirational look at Gerg.

"Loads," Gerg replied, putting an arm around Leila's waist. "But first come, first served, so you get lost." He led the assassin to the only room on board with a real door and she wondered what Fett would do if he found out. The prospect was pleasing and Leila smiled.

"So, Gerg, dear, do you have time for a little massage," she began to unbutton his uniform as soon as the door hissed shut behind them. "Or would you prefer to get right down to it." Leila heard him inhale sharply as her knee made contact with a region that was usually considered painful in such situations. But she knew she was good, and knew just how much pressure to apply.

With the assassin that close to him, he could only fumble her back, but suddenly his mouth was close to her ear. "That depends completely on which part you massage," he breathed.

Leila took a small step back. "Ah, an expert," she teased. "Let's just say I'll take care of everything I happen to come by while shedding that annoying clothes of yours."

Too bad Gerg did not want a massage, it would have made things much easier. For Leila the human body was nothing so much to her than disaster waiting to happen. Just a little pressure here, a small twist there and it actually destroyed itself. Or, as Leila planned this time, plunged his owner into a drug-like and highly susceptible state. Routinely, her hands worked pressure points on his arms and chest, and with a sigh, Gerg slipped to the ground, when she reached the crucial spot at his neck.

Leila allowed herself a chuckle. This was one officer she did not have to worry about anymore. She undressed him completely, working on his nervous system all the while. Gerg moaned and gasped in a very convincing way, and Leila added her amount of according noises. There was nothing of much use in Gerg's pockets, and Leila decided to leave him his meagre possessions.

While the officer writhed on the floor in happy dreams, Leila unknotted some of the strings of her outfit and ruffled her hair. Better to look a little used when she tackled officer number two. She waited for a short while, then bent down to push some final buttons. Gerg cried out and collapsed. He would squirm a little more until he was knocked out for the better part of an hour. Enough time to get officer number two unconscious as well.

Holding her breath, Leila went to the door. When she opened it, she released it with a gasp, running almost headfirst into the other man. All the second officer saw through the door was his colleague, undressed and still moaning in what had to be the aftermath of impressive pleasure.

"So, big boy, what's your idea of fun?" Leila leaned towards him, showing a cleavage that almost reached to her belly button.

"You'll find out soon enough," he said, grabbing her roughly around the waist. "Gerg is a wimp, but I'll have none of that, copy? We'll do this my way." He tore most of the strips of cloth Leila had wound across her abdomen decoratively as he let go again. Then he clasped her wrist and dragged her off in the direction of the holding cells.

Leila sighed. A walking cliché if she had ever seen one. This would be dirty. In feigned obedience, she let him shove her into a cell. The assassin saw the strike coming and braced herself against it, but as his fists connected first to her face and then to her belly, she collapsed on the floor with a moan.

"Anything you have to say, you start it with 'Master', whore." He turned, sure to have her beaten into submission, and began to search the cabinets for binders.

Leila slowly tucked her feet under her belly, rubbing her sore cheek. Then she turned to face the cell door in her cowering position. She did not have much space with the narrow bunk behind her taking up half the cell's space.

"This will do nicely," 'Master' said, returning with heavy metal cuffs. Leering in anticipation, he grabbed her left arm and pulled her wrist up into the cuff and Leila half off the ground.

Making sure her eyes were almost full of tears, Leila lifted her head. "Master," she whispered desperately.

Gloating desire stood plainly in the officers face, when he heard her say the words he wanted.

"I'm sorry," the assassin said softly. In one smooth movement she jumped up, bringing her right arm around behind his neck and striking her forearm against his Adam's Apple. With her belly placed on his shoulder, she kicked both of her feet into his crotch with maximum force, landing surely on her hands as 'Master' went to the ground. She turned a wheel to the side, crouching on the corner of the narrow bunk. From here she had easy access to the officers back and neck. A heartbeat later, he lay motionless, still clasping his damaged pleasure centre.

"Serves you right," she muttered as she began to drag him away by the feet. Though she was strong, his bulky body was difficult to manoeuvre, but Leila cared little whether his head or back banged against anything. If he had not been so heavy, she might even have gone out of her way to give his skull some extra dents.

When she finally reached the ramp, she just gave him a kick and watched him tumble towards the ground. Leila decided to simply drag him to the nearest wall. There she made sure he would be out for some more hours before she returned to the _SlaveI_ to drag Gerg out, too.


	3. Chapter 3

Pleased with herself, Leila had just piled the Gerg on his comrade, when the double doors to the hangar bay opened and Jango Fett walked in. He was preceded by a man in uniform who probably complied only because he was held at blaster point. Leila couldn't help but stare.

The bounty hunter did not even look at her as he led his prisoner into the _SlaveI_.

Leila stood as if nailed to the ground, softly rubbing her hurt cheek. The cuff still fastened around her left wrist jingled softly. And though she realized that the hatch had not closed, nor the ramp risen, she still stood motionless, captured in the eye of storm that her thoughts created. She could not say how much time had passed, when Fett reappeared in the hatch. For a long moment he just faced her direction, then he motioned her inside with his head. Mechanically, Leila set off.

When she tried to step past him, Fett's hand shot up, taking hold of her chin. Defiantly, Leila let him scrutinize the growing bruise on her cheek, before she jerked her head free. As she continued into the _SlaveI_, she did not see the bounty hunter's gaze resting on the cuff dangling from her arm. The assassin went directly to the holding cells, hoping to find a key in the place her wannabe master had found the cuffs.

The man Fett had brought was sitting on the narrow bunk in one of the cells. He stood up, hope gleaming in his eyes when he saw her approach.

"Don't bother," she said raising a hand dismissively.

The man closed his mouth, but kept his eyes on her. She turned his back to him and began searching the cabinets systematically. But there was nothing. With a sigh, Leila put everything back into place, wondering if that brute had the keys on him. _Not that it mattered much_, she thought, when she felt the ship rise with s shudder. Either Fett would have to deal with that personally, or she just would have a lock pick remove it at her next stop.

She closed the cabinet, and turned. The official now stood close to the bars, his arms reaching through the spaces. With a pleading look he opened his mouth -

"No, really," Leila said shaking her head in disgust. "Don't!"

She made sure to pass him by far enough to stay out of reach. The last thing she needed now was to damage the merchandise. Bounty hunters were rather particular about that. Without problems she found her way back to the small sitting area she remembered. Sitting down, she began to knot the broken pieces of cloth together again.

The bounty hunter came though the door just as Leila tied the last knot. He had left his helmet in the cockpit and his hair stuck out at odd angles. Suddenly Leila felt exposed. Her clothes were not covering much, but it had not bothered her before. And it annoyed her that she should feel vulnerable now, when she had not care before. _Must be a helmet thing_, she decided. Still she slid a little further onto the bench, putting the table between her body and Fett's gaze.

"It was a scam, right?" Leila challenged him.

Fett turned around with half a shrug, opening one of the cubicles behind him.

"I hope you got some good laughs out of it," Leila grumbled.

Wordlessly, the bounty hunter turned back to her with bacta patch in his hand and leaned over the table, intending to apply it.

"Not. Your. Business!" Leila snapped as she snatched the patch from his hand. "You might want to do something about this, though." Holding out her cuffed wrist accusingly, the assassin began to apply the patch with her other hand.

Fett drew a small multi-key from one of his many pockets and inserted it in the lock. It took the tool a few seconds to adapt to the lock, but then it clicked open easily. He caught the cuffs and placed them behind himself.

Leila pulled her arm back, using both hands to straighten out the patch on her cheek. She could already feel the prickle of the working bacta. But then it did not surprise her that somebody living as dangerously as Fett had top notch medical supplies. A cup of caf was pushed towards her, but when she looked up, the bounty hunter's face was unreadable as ever

"So where are we going?"

"I will drop you at Sluis Van," he replied.

Leila nodded. Taking into consideration that they were close to the Hydian Way, she had expected as much. She folded her hands around the cup. "Good enough." She kept her eyes on the caf, willing the bounty hunter to leave.

Eventually, he did, and Leila let her shoulder sag. At least, she was off that planet and back in business. Everything else was secondary. She fingered the bacta patch. With secondary action to be expected.


End file.
